


Windows to the Soul

by TheWonderTwins



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Fighting, Friendship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mages, Self-Discovery, Templars, Violence, but like i said long fic is long, long fic is long, more as I think of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-16
Updated: 2012-08-16
Packaged: 2017-11-12 06:34:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWonderTwins/pseuds/TheWonderTwins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can read a lot about someone by looking into their eyes. Some people are better at reading than others, of course, and Hawke will use her gifts-magic and quick wit to name a few-to get her family to safety. Surviving Kirkwall is a new and more dangerous challenge entirely, but she does manage to get some help along the way...</p><p>DA:II fic from beginning to end, Fenris/Hawke romance eventually</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hawke's Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the world they live in
> 
>  
> 
> _I originally had this up on FF.net, but that site has fallen into disfavor with me for reasons. I am posting it on here, because I do actually want to finish it, and I need to post it to motivate me to write it. SO! Long fic is Long and it's going to take several chapters to get me up to where I am on FF.net, but this version will have some minor edits that the other doesn't, so it's up to you if you want to read it here or venture over to FF.net to read it._

The windows to the soul. 

As Hawke gazed into the molten yellow eyes, she wondered what the Witch saw in her own pale grey. Sorrow, certainly. She was self-aware enough to know that it wasn’t the smoke from the dragon’s fire or the smell of burning darkspawn that made her eyes water. Bethany’s corpse lay not five feet behind her and the devastated remains of Lothering could still be seen beyond the hills. Curiosity, perhaps? Despite battling their way through the ‘spawn and running for their lives, was it unreasonable for Hawke to be curious about the Witch of the Wilds standing before her? Could she, and her offer of help, be trusted? Strength and resolve hardened behind the tears that did not fall and she stood a bit straighter. Her job was to get her family away from the blight and safely to Kirkwall. That had not changed.

“There must be a catch.” Hawke said.

At that, the Witch laughed and taunted, “There is always a catch! Life is a catch! I suggest you catch it while you can.”

“Should we even trust her?” Carver demanded quietly. “We don’t even know what she is.”

_I do, little brother._ Hawke thought silently, but it was Aveline that responded, “I know what she is. The Witch of the Wilds.”

The Witch shrugged as she replied casually, “Some call me that. Also Flemeth, Asha’bellanar, an old hag who talks too much.” Hawke felt Carver stiffen beside her at the name Flemeth. Their father had told many a tale of the sorceress as the children grew up. None were pleasant. “Does it matter?” Flemeth continued. “I offer you this, I will get your group past the hoard in exchange for a simple delivery to a place not far out of your way. Would you do this for a Witch of the Wilds?”

Molten yellow met steel grey and both looked trough the windows into the other. An unfathomable swirl of power and hatred, humor and regret mixed chaotically with perhaps a touch of insanity behind the eyes of the Witch. _But no treachery._ Hawke breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“We don’t have much choice.”

“We never do. There is a clan of Dalish elves near the city of Kirkwall. Deliver this amulet to their Keeper, Marethari. Do as she asks with it, and any debt between us is paid in full.” Hawke took the amulet in question and placed it around her neck. As she dropped the pendant beneath her shirt the Witch stepped away and spoke again. “Before I take you anywhere, however, there is another matter.” She gave Hawke and meaningful look and the two turned to Aveline who knelt by her wounded husband, Wesley.

Standing as they approached Aveline stepped protectively in front of Wesley. “No. Leave him alone.”

“What has been done to your man is within his blood already.” Flemeth said, almost sadly.

“You lie!”

Wheezing painfully, Wesley tried to calm his wife. “She’s right Aveline.” The red-haired warrior took a shuddering breath at her husband’s words. “I can feel the corruption inside me.”

_The darkspawn blood must have gotten into his wound. I knew he didn’t look good._ Hawke glanced apologetically at Aveline.

“Then how much time before you…”

“Not long now; if I am any judge.” The Witch commented.

“There must be something we can do.” Hawke almost pleaded. _He may have been a Templar, but no one deserves to go like that._

“The only cure I know of is to become a Grey Warden.”

“And they all died at Ostagar.”

“Not all, but the last are now beyond your reach.”

Aveline knelt beside her husband again and the two began exchanging quiet words. Wesley was begging his wife to end his life before the corruption took its course. Aveline struggled in indecision and Carver made a move to step in. Hawke placed a firm hand on his chest and shook her head. She knelt across from her new friend and said softly, “He’s your husband Aveline. I can’t decide his fate.”

The warrior nodded mournfully and unsheathed Wesley’s dagger as he whispered, “Be strong, my love.” Together, husband and wife held the blade and each other and ended his suffering.

Hawke and Aveline stood and rejoined Carver and Hawke’s weeping mother. Flemeth’s words, “Without an end, there can be no peace,” fell on the group without comfort. “It gets no easier. Your struggles have only just begun.”

Hawke and the rest of her group followed slowly behind Flemeth as she moved into the clearing. When the wind gathered and the Witch of the Wilds was once again a dragon, Hawke’s mother tugged on her daughter’s sleeve. “We can’t just leave her… Those monsters would…” Her words stopped, choked by sobs as she looked desperately back at Bethany’s broken body.

Hawke turned back to her sister and took a steadying breath. She gathered a small amount of flame in her hands and glanced askance at Aveline. The widow nodded and stood by her side as Hawke cremated the fallen.

_Ashes we were and ashes we become,_ Hawke repeated silently the prayer Wesley had spoken over her sister as she watched the fire. A strong, if gentle, nudge from the scaled nose of the dragon brought her attention back to the living. Her family had climbed on the dragon’s back and was waiting for her. She allowed Flemeth’s giant claw to lift her to the great beast’s back. She positioned herself between the powerful wings, her mother shifted nervously between her and her Carver, his strong arm keeping her seated firmly.   
“Let us be off, then.” Hawke whispered and the dragon launched skyward.

Now clear of the world below, Temperance Hawke surveyed the blighted wreck that had been home. The damage was… everywhere. Nothing had survived. The hoard stretched across the landscape like a black hand of death leaving nothing but taint and fire and rubble in its wake. 

A surprisingly short time later, the dragon landed in a clearing a half-mile from the outside of Gwaren. Hawke slid off first. “Scoot forward Mother so Carver can jump down.” She did as she was instructed and Carver didn’t slide so much as tumble from the dragon’s back. “Graceful.” She teased.

He glared at her but said nothing. Carver then raised his arms to their mother. “Jump, Mother, I’ve got you.”

Leandra Hawke nodded and closed her eyes as she slipped down the scaled back and into Carver’s arms. 

Aveline landed beside them a moment later and once everyone was on the ground, Flemeth took her human form to address them. “This is as far as I go. You are past the hoard; the rest is now up to you.” She turned her back to them and the light of her transformation surrounded her; just before the transformation was complete, she said to Hawke, “Do not forget our bargain.”

The amulet heated against her skin as the dragon took off, and then they were alone. _As if I could forget,_ Hawke sighed clutching the amulet through her shirt. “Come on, I saw Gwaren to the north. We’ll have to catch a ship.”

The group began the trek north and made good time getting to the city. Gwaren was in tumult as refugees fleeing the Blight begged and pleaded and bartered to get on board any ship traveling to the Free Marches. “Stay close. We don’t want to get separated.” Hawke stated calmly as they forged into the throng of people.

“Do we have the coin to get passage?” Aveline asked.

“That depends on how much these captains are driving prices. So many people fighting for so little place…” Carver muttered frustrated. “We may have to literally fight for a ship.”

“Oh, Carver, don’t say such things.” Leandra cried. “I don’t want you risking yourself. Your sister will find us a ship; don’t worry.”

_No pressure._ Hawke sighed and started using her staff as a walking stick and convenient crowd control. Soon she guided her family to the docks and looked around. This area was even busier than the market district they had just left. “Aveline, please stay with Mother and Carver; keep them safe while I go talk to captains.”

Aveline nodded, but Carver grabbed his sister’s shoulder, indignation clear on his face as he said, “You just told us not to separate. Where do you think you’re going _by yourself_?”

She shrugged his hand off and repeated, “Stay with Mother. I’ll be fine, promise.” She slipped into the crowd before he could say another word and made her way to the ships. Making a quick sweep of the captains, Hawke immediately eliminated a few options. She would not trust her family to just anyone, and certainly not to anyone who stood laughing as impoverished peoples begged at his feet. A part of her really wanted to set his malicious arse on fire, but that would not be productive.

She tried talking to several captains and sailors, but they were all either full or demanded too much. She did not have much coin and she would really, really, _really_ rather not offer herself as payment. Something she noticed quiet a few of the young women were doing. She would if there was absolutely no other way, but she hadn’t checked all of the ships, so she wouldn’t jump into bed with anyone yet.

Shaking her head slightly, Hawke made her way over to a promising captain. The sailor was a head taller than her own not inconsiderable height and was helping lead a family with three small children on board his ship. She stood quietly by the boarding plank while he lent his assistance, waiting her turn to talk to him. As she lingered the family took the last of their things on board, but when the biggest of the children turned around to help his mother, he knock his youngest brother on the head with his swinging arm. The toddler stumbled back and fell off the plank into the cold water, hitting the back of his skull on the dock on the way. Without thought or hesitation, Hawke dropped her staff and dove in after him; she swam a little ways before she found the boy in the murky water. She grabbed him and kicked powerfully to the surface; when she broke the surface strong arms lifted her and the boy onto the dock.

The mother trembled hysterically as she reached for her child. “Peter! Darling, wake up! Maker, he isn’t breathing!”

“Serah,” still clutching the child, Hawke whispered to the frantic woman; when their eyes met she continued quietly, “I can heal him.” The woman’s eyes widened briefly and she nodded. Hawke closed her eyes and forced herself to relax. She placed her hand an inch above the boy’s chest and let the warmth of healing magic spread from it to his center. _Water in his lungs, a bump on the head, no permanent damage though._ She released the magic to its work now that she could direct it, and with a great gasp Peter’s eyes flew open and he started breathing on his own.

“Thank you! Oh thank you, Serah! Maker be praised!” The woman pulled the little boy into her arms and hugged him fiercely. She stood with him still in her arms and walked him back onto the ship.

Hawke sat, wet, cold, and tired, and smiled contentedly. It was a moment before she noticed the large captain’s eyes on her. She dropped the smile and turned to look nervously at him. He continued to stare at her, though into her eyes now that her head was turned, and seemed to be appraising what he’d just seen. She made appraisals of her own as she looked back at him. _Kindness, that’s good. Reliability and trustworthiness. Clever and intelligent. This is who I’d trust to get us to Kirkwall._

He spoke first. “That was a brave thing you did.”

“Which part? The diving in or the blatant use of magic after?” She asked finally breaking eye contact to look for her staff.

He handed the long shaft of worked wood to her and pulled her up by it when she grabbed hold. “Both. You’re an apostate.” Not a question, so she did not answer. “Where are you headed?”

“Kirkwall.”

“Anyone traveling with you?”

“Three others.”

“Gather them and return. We cast off in fifteen minutes.”

She nodded and smiled with relief. Hawke took off to find her family to bring them to their ship. She spied the redhead easily among all of the dark-haired Fereldans, as she hoped she would, and pushed her way through the crowd. “We have passage, let’s go.”

“Maker! Temperance, you’re soaked!” Her mother gasped.

“It’s nothing, just went for a quick swim is all.” She evaded as she brought them over to the ship. Looking at the side of the ship, Hawke noticed the name for the first time and laughed out loud.

“What’s so funny, Sister?”

“The ship’s name.” She pointed to the carved letters and quietly laughed again. Carver just shook his head, walked faster, and mumbled something about Hawke having hit her head. She glowered at his broad back before catching up. She stopped in front of the plank and waited for the captain to notice her arrival. When he did she asked, “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”

He walked over and stood in front of her, looking over at her companions. “Permission granted, Serah…?”

“Hawke.” She grinned.

He actually chuckled a little himself and led the way aboard. As Hawke reached for her pouch of coins he shook his head. “That won’t be necessary Serah Hawke.” She smiled at him and muttered a thank you. “You and your family will be in the hold with the rest of the refugees. It isn’t much, but I promise to get you all to Kirkwall safely.” Once the short tour was complete the captain turned to face the group. “I am Captain Verga. Welcome aboard _The Hawk’s Flight._ ”


	2. Being Strong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or their world
> 
> _Posting a few chapters right away because I felt like it._

The toss of the ship on the waves made an unpleasant situation nearly unbearable. Refugees, unused to the rocking and lurching, moaned dismally; several loosing what little lunch they'd eaten. The smell of bile and depression added to the overwhelming stench of unwashed human and desperation combining in a way that made Hawke's eyes water.

 _Of course, you could just be crying._ She scolded herself. She had to be strong for Mother. The tired, grey-haired woman leaned against Carver, weeping silently into his broad shoulder. But Hawke could not afford to be weak. She mourned Bethany's loss; like an ache deep within her soul it clawed at her heart, but she could not let it show.

She glanced at Carver, Bethany's twin, and wished her brother didn't have that look of anger contorting his face. He did not spare her anything with that look. _He blames me. I should have been faster to stop her from that damned ogre. I just wish he'd mourn like a normal person; it isn't healthy to bottle up that kind of emotion._

Completely missing the hypocrisy in that thought, Hawke shuffled her way over to Aveline. The sound of the sea and movement within the hold made a private conversation possible, if one kept to a whisper. "Aveline."

"Hawke."

"How are you… holding up?"

The somber warrior glanced at Hawke, then to Carver and Leandra, before settling her eyes on her hands. "I feel… I shall never be clean of his blood." She fisted her hands until the knuckles were white.

"You ended his suffering."

"I know. It was the merciful thing to do, but… the stain of it… it will always linger." Hawke nodded and placed a gentle hand on Aveline's still closed fists. Slowly, the warrior relaxed her hands and allowed Hawke to twine her fingers with her own. Hawke gave a strong, hopefully reassuring squeeze. "Thank you, Hawke. I needed that."

Hawke nodded and released her hand. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the side of the hold with a deep sign. "Maker, I wish I could get Carver to open up," she admitted. "Bethany was his twin, he shouldn't just sit there and… brood."

"What about you, Hawke?" Aveline asked seriously.

Her bottom lip quivered so she stubbornly bit it so that it would stop. "I'm the eldest. Father… when he died, he told me to look out for them. Even Mother. I can't break down into a simpering heap. Not yet. Not until they're safe."

"Your father would want you to mourn."

Hawke shook her head, opening her eyes to look at Aveline. "He would take care of the family first. Our needs were placed above his own. Always. I can do nothing less in his place."

Aveline opened her mouth to speak, a question clear in her eyes, but she hesitated. Hawke let her find the words, though she suspected what the question would be. "Hawke… I feel I have to ask. What did you do to secure our passage? Captain Verga wouldn't take your coin…"

"I was waiting to talk to Verga about passage while he helped a family get on board. One of the little boys fell into the water, hitting his head on the way in. I jumped in after," she gestured meekly to her wet clothes, "and brought him to shore. He wasn't breathing though, so I healed him. Captain Verga saw, I guess, and decided to let us aboard."

"That was very noble."

"He apparently thought so too."

As if speaking of him could summon the man, Captain Verga crept quietly into the hold. Hawke noticed that he wasn't so much trying to hide his presence, rather, that he always moved as quickly and softly as he could. He moved his way through the refugees towards Hawke. "Serah Hawke. May I speak with you a moment?"

Hawke glanced at Aveline, who nodded her head in farewell, and then stood. She stumbled a bit as a particularly strong wave thrashed the ship, but strong hands we quick to catch her before she fell. Hawke steadied herself and mumbled a thank you. She allowed the captain to lead her out of the hold and onto the deck. Once in the open, Hawke stopped and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply the fresh sea air. She allowed it to cleanse her thoughts and the remaining smells of the hold.

Politely, Captain Verga waited for Hawke to open her eyes again before commanding her attention. "Serah, if it isn't too much trouble, I'd like a favor."

"What is it Captain?" Hawke asked respectfully.

"One of my men got twisted in the rigging as we were leaving port. I was hoping you'd be so kind as to take a look." He explained.

"Of course, lead the way."

The captain led Hawke to the crew quarters quickly and opened the third door on the left. He followed her in and shut the door. The man on the cot tried to sit up to greet the captain, but Verga motioned for him to relax. "Formal greeting isn't necessary when you can't leave a bed, sailor."

"Yes, Captain." The man sighed as he relaxed back into the cot, though he cringed at the movement.

Hawke moved closer to the sailor as she examined him with her eyes. He left leg was a bloody mass of hastily done bandages and his right arm was in a sling. He also had a cut on his head, but the bleeding seemed to have mostly stopped already. "You say he was caught in the rigging?" She asked.

The sailor jumped and then winced at the sound of her voice, clearly not realizing someone else had arrived. He must be in a great deal of pain not to notice someone else was in the room.

"Yes. From the report I received, he was suspended above the deck for a bit before he fell. From my inspection, I believe his shoulder to be dislocated. The rope dug and cut into his leg, fairly extensively. I'd have had a tourniquet applied, but I was hoping you might be able to help instead."

Hawke nodded and knelt next to the bed. "Do you have clean water I could use? I need to clean the wound before I can safely heal it."

Captain Verga nodded and swiftly exited. When he left, Hawke drew her attention back to the wounded man. "What's your name, sailor?" She spoke softly, calmly, removing her wet, restrictive leather vest as she did so.

"I…Ianto." He stammered.

"Nice to meet you, Ianto, my name is Temperance. I need to take a look at your injuries, try to relax." She gently placed her hands on his face to look at the head wound. She frowned, slightly confused, when the drying blood thinned and began running down his face again.

"S…Serah. Why are you wet?" Ianto asked.

"Shh… try no to speak. I took a little swim earlier. No need to worry." She realized her dripping hair had cleaned away a little of the blood.

"She is the one I told you about. She rescued the little boy." Verga had returned. He placed a basin of water by her feet and knelt next to her by the cot. "Forgive me, Serah, for not offering something for you to dry off with."

"It's alright. You were busy getting us away from the Blight. I forgive you." She took the rag that Verga held out for her and dipped it in the water. She gently began cleaning the blood from Ianto's face. "Head wounds bleed a lot, even the shallow ones. This appears to be fairly shallow, but I'll make sure there's no internal damage before jumping to conclusions."

Satisfied that the area was clean and that the wound had not reopened, Hawke moved on to the much more serious leg injury. His leggings had already been cut away from the area, leaving the injury accessible.

Dipping the rag into the basin again, Hawke didn't wring it out before bringing it to the bandages. "I'm wetting the bandages on your leg, Ianto, so that when I remove them I won't damage the area further." He nodded mutely as she wrung sections of the soaked rag over his leg, making sure not to just completely drench the wound. Once she was satisfied, she placed the rag back in the water and began slowly removing bandages. She flinched in sympathy every time the poor man winced or hissed in pain, but her hands were steady.

Once all the bandages were removed, Hawke began cleaning the area again. The blood still ran freely from his leg, however, so she finished cleaning quickly and set the rag aside and placed her hands over the leg. She closed her eyes, focused, and relaxed as her magic responded to her call. _The head wound is shallow, no internal damage. Good. Dislocated shoulder and a cracked rib, easily fixed. Tore through to the muscle in his leg. That must have been one hell of a tangle to do this kind of damage._ "The shoulder will have to be set after I close the leg wound. Keep it in the sling for a few days if you can." She ordered calmly before giving her magic direction, willing it to mend the damage.

When she opened her eye, drained, she sat back on her heels and nodded, approvingly, at the new, pinkish skin now covering the leg. "Well… that's good." Her tired body protested against one more moment of consciousness and she passed out, spent.

When she awoke, she noticed a few things. First, she was on a bed in a room that was neither the hold nor the room that had held Ianto. This one was bigger. And had a bed. With sheets. And pillows. Second, she noticed that she was dry, probably due to the fact that, third, she was wearing only her smallclothes.

 _Right. Okay…_ "Hello?"

"Serah Hawke. My apologies, I did not mean to wake you." Captain Verga stood, nervously, by the bed with his back to her. It seemed he had turned around quickly when she awoke.

"It's alright." She sat up, pulling the covers with her. "Where are my clothes?"

"Hanging to dry by the window," he gestured towards the far wall where her clothes were indeed hanging up in front of the window, "we thought it was best to remove them so that you wouldn't catch a chill. I was bringing you a fresh set." He set a folded set of clothes at the foot of the bed.

"Who's we?"

"Your friend, the redhead, Mistress Aveline."

Hawke gathered the clothes and looked for a shirt. She was a little dismayed to find a shift and dress instead of pants and shirt, but she wasn't going to complain. She quickly wriggled into the garments and sat at the edge of the bed. "I am decent, Captain."

He turned around thankfully and continued explaining, "When you collapsed I brought you here and went to the hold to bring one of your companions to help. Mistress Aveline was the only one awake. She said not to disturb the others and came to lend her assistance."

"Where is she now?"

"Fetching supper. You've been resting for almost five hours."

She cringed. "My mother must be frantic, I apologize."

"It is no trouble. Mistress Aveline has talked with your family, though I am not aware of what she told them, they seemed reassured."

"That's good." Hawke glanced down at the dress she was wearing then back up at the Captain. "Do you normally keep women's clothing around?"

"No, Serah. The dress is a donation from a grateful mother."

"The one I helped earlier?"

"Yes Serah. She says that it is the least she could do for her son's rescuer."

"Please, drop the Serah. Just Hawke, will be fine."

Verga nodded and pulled the chair from the nearby table and sat down upon it next to the bed. "Hawke, it is. Are you feeling well? I admit I was worried my favor had caused you some damage."

"I will be fine. I just drained myself; two complex healings in a short time span. I will recover with rest. A few days at most."

"Then please, I insist you remain here. The hold is not a restful place and I owe you a debt."

"That isn't—"

"I believe it is necessary. You saved my brother's life. Offering you a comfortable bed to recuperate in is the very least I could do."

Hawke swallowed her protest and simply nodded. "Thank you."

"Truly, Hawke, it is I who should be thanking you."

She nodded shyly and lay back down on the bed. "Since I am stealing your quarters, where are you going to sleep?" She pondered.

He chuckled. "I will be on deck, underneath the stars."

There was a knock at the door and Aveline entered with a tray of food. "Glad to see you awake, Hawke."

"You know me, I simply must have my beauty sleep." Hawke teased lightly. She felt a sharp pain in her chest when she looked at the tray in Aveline's hands. Whenever she would be bedridden, Bethany was always the one to bring her meals. He sister was the better healer, too. _If only I'd been more like her… I might have saved her._

Captain Verga seemed to sense a change in the mood of the room. He stood, made polite farewells, and left. Aveline took the vacated chair and set the tray next to Hawke on the bed. "Thank you, Aveline." She murmured quietly, glancing sadly at the tray.

"Hawke, no one is here but me. You don't have to be strong."

She felt the sting of unshed tears in her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. "Whenever one of us was sick, Bethany was always the one to bring a tray of food. I just… wasn't ready for that reminder. I'm sorry." She schooled her features, stopped herself from crying, and shook her head to clear it a little. Once that was done, she pulled the tray closer and began to eat.

"What was she like?"

"Brilliant. Like a ray of sunshine. She was always so kind, caring towards others; slow to anger. She and I would spend hours together studying, trading knowledge. I taught her how to meditate, she taught me how to heal. She was an amazing healer, better than Father, even."

"She seems to have taught you well. From what I hear, you're quite the healer yourself." Aveline smiled.

Hawke shook her head. "Not good enough. I couldn't save her."

"No amount of healing can bring back the dead, Hawke. It wasn't your fault."

"You'll excuse me if I disagree. I should have done more. Stopped her from drawing the ogre's attention or knocked her out of the way. Something."

"What's done is done. You cannot change it by beating yourself up. All you can do is try to not let it happen again."

"What do you mean?"

"Take today for example. You saved the lives of two people today. That's two families that won't have to go through the loss you're going through now. I think that's a worthy goal; something to honor her memory by."

Hawke looked at her friend and a single tear slipped past her wall. "Thank you." She said hoarsely, her throat was too tight to say anything else.

Aveline patted Hawke's knee companionably and then sat back in her chair, relaxing, allowing Hawke the time she needed to get back under control. "I told Leandra and Carver what happened on the docks and a few hours ago. Your mother was upset at first and wanted to see you, but I told her you were resting and that if she wanted to see you, she could come up tomorrow."

Hawke sighed. "I just know she's going to give me a lecture about being cautious and such. Maybe I can feign sleep when she shows up."

"Carver seemed more upset that you would foolishly risk attracting Templar attention than whether or not you were all right."

"That's Carver. Raised to be ever watchful for the Templars in case we needed to run and hide. He was Bethany and my unofficial bodyguard; something I think he's resentful of. Hard to tell with Carver, though. He could just be an ass."

Aveline chuckled along with Hawke and the two slipped into easy conversation, swapping childhood stories and other fond memories for the next several hours. Sometimes, when either Wesley or Bethany was mentioned the two would allow a few tears to fall. It was healthy and it felt good to not have to be so strong for a few moments. Finally, both Hawke and Aveline were yawning too much to talk anymore. Aveline bid her goodnight and left after making sure Hawke was settled for sleep.

Hawke drifted off as the sound of the sea lulled her to the Fade.


	3. Fading

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the world

A knock at the door roused her from sleep sometime in the morning. Beyond that it was daylight, which could only be seen because of the window in the room, Hawke didn't know what time it was, but she did know that she was very tired. "Come in." She said reluctantly.

Vergas entered with a waterskin and passed it to a grateful Hawke. She was aware that her shoulder-length hair was unseemly tangled and messy, but she did not care. Sleep would claim her again soon enough.

Vergas sat in the chair, seemingly trying to find something to say. Hawke spared him by asking, "How is Ianto?"

"He is well. I'm making him keep that arm in a sling for now, but other than that he seems no worse for wear."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"As am I Hawke. Thank you, again."

"That reminds me… Your ship: The Hawk's Flight. Where did you get the name? I was not aware that hawks were big water birds."

Vergas grinned at her interest, or perhaps at the coincidence of names, either way he answered, "They are not, in fact. The name comes from when Ianto and I were lads. We were on our way back from the Free Marches when a storm wrecked the ship we were on. It was quick, savage. Not many survived the initial devastation, but Ianto and I had managed to find a lifeboat that was still floating. We climbed aboard and thanked the Maker we were still alive.

"That's when the fog settled over the area.

"The area around here is not the safest to traverse even when you have a crew of experienced sailors. The rocks can be sailed around when you can see what you're doing, but the fog obscured everything. We weren't even sure how close to the harbor we were.

"On the second day of this, while I was on watch, a hawk landed on the seat in front of me. My curiosity was piqued, overriding any caution I should have had. I leant cautiously closer and the bird still didn't fly away. It just sat there, staring at me. I stared back. Maybe it was a trick of the light, or maybe it was that I was exhausted, but I could swear I saw… intelligence in its gaze."

He paused in his tale, recalling how eerie it had been. Hawke prodded curiously, "What did you do?"

"Oh, I did what any sane person would, of course." He smirked. "I asked it for help."

"Did it respond?" Hawke teased.

"As a matter of fact, it did. Sort of. It flew off, but before it did it looked like it had nodded. Anyway, it flew to the bow and… did something. I admit it was an odd sight, I'm not rightly sure I could describe what it did, but after it had finished, the hawk spoke."

"A shapechanger, maybe?" Hawke was surprised. _An apostate most likely. No wonder he doesn't seem to mind my magic, if an apostate helped him before._

"Indeed. He beckoned me over and told me that it was not in his power to bring the wind, but that he could guide us through the water to harbor. All we had to do was follow. I woke Ianto, told him to follow the hawk. He looked at me like I was crazy, but he was too used to following my orders to disobey. We made it to harbor, kissed dry land, and when I looked for the hawk, to thank it, it was already gone."

"You were very lucky."

"Don't I know it. I would have liked to thank the mage for helping."

"Is that why you seem unconcerned by my apostate status?" Hawke asked.

"It is a reason, yes, but not the only one."

Before Hawke could ask what other reasons he had, the door burst open and a disheveled sailor quickly saluted and declared, "Captain, we need you on deck, Ser."

Vergas frowned, "What is it Sailor?"

"There's some…" he glanced awkwardly towards Hawke, "unrest, Captain."

 _Oh, Maker, I bet 100 sovereigns this has to do with my magic._ Hawke sank a little in the bed, trying to become smaller, unnoticeable.

Vergas stood and made his was to the door. He threw an apologetic look to Hawke before departing. Through the door she heard his remark to the sailor, "Now what exactly is going on?"

The two were already out of earshot for the sailor's reply, however, so Hawke just lay back and waited. Still recovering from exerting herself, Hawke slipped into sleep without meaning to.

_The Fade was always a strange place. She tried to avoid accidentally falling asleep because it meant she would have less control within the Fade. When she found herself in a small clearing with a clear pond at its center, Hawke relaxed a little. This was her meditative refuge. Whenever she forged into the world of dream, she brought herself here. It was good that she appeared in a place she knew._

__Something is different. _She noticed quickly. Looking around, Hawke saw nothing immediately out of place._ Yet, something is different. I can feel it. __

_Standing from her seated position, Hawke walked barefooted the perimeter of the clearing. Still finding nothing, she frowned and sat on the rock at the edge of the pool of water. She slipped her feet into the cold wetness and continued to look around._

_That's when she noticed it. She was being watched. There was no one in the open, so she drew he gaze to the trees themselves. When she brought her eyes along a spot almost on the other side of the clearing, the thing that watched stilled. She could feel it in the tension of the clearing._

_Not taking her eyes off the spot, she withdrew her feet from the water and walked over to the trees. "Hello?" She kept her voice soft and gentle, so as not to startle whatever it was. She moved forward slowly as she neared the tree line. She leaned against one of the old oaks and looked into the forest. There, not too far from the clearing was a white wolf._

_Startled at first, she almost drew away, but then she noticed that he was caught in a trap; a net held him down. He continued to look at her, though he tried not to move. When she tore her eyes away from the net and to his own, she was surprised to see that they were not yellow. They were green._

_When she reached out to him he growled. She hesitated. "Do you want out?" She asked._

_He stopped growling suddenly, seemingly surprised. Taking that as a good sign, she reached out again. His growling resumed, however, so she withdrew. As she withdrew this time, movement on the other side of the wolf caught her eye. Beings of rage began to swarm the trapped wolf._

_"No!" Unthinking, she swept her hand willing the demons to stop. Ice sprang from the ground and destroyed the oncoming threat._ What? I don't remember learning that spell. _She looked surprised at her own hand._

_A whine from the wolf brought her back to the trapped animal. She reached for the net, to pull it off, but more demons gathered. She called forth lightning as she had against the hurlocks that harassed them on the way out of Lothering and banished them._

_Frantically, she began tugging at the net trying to get it off the wolf before more demons could come._

_"Hawke." The voice made her jump. She looked at the wolf, wondering if that deep, gravelly voice had come from him._

_He stared at her with those green eyes…_

"Hawke?"

She sat bolt upright and then really wished she hadn't as the room began to spin. She put a hand to her head and the other on the bed to steady herself. She groaned, "That was dumb."

"Hawke, are you alright?" Aveline stood by the head of the bed and glanced at her, concern on her features.

"Mph." Was her intelligent reply.

"I told you not to wake her." Aveline turned her gaze to Vergas, who was standing by the door.

"I apologize Mistress Aveline. It was not my intention." He said.

"What's going on?" Hawke mumbled. _What was that dream… I can't remember…_

"There have been complaints," Aveline began bluntly. "It got out, somehow, that one of the refugees, you, is a mage. Some of the other refugees are rather upset that 'a cursed abomination of nature' was hiding in their midst."

Hawke groaned. "No doubt here to corrupt their minds and sacrifice their virgins."

Vergas chuckled. "Something like that."

Aveline did not look amused. "It apparently doesn't matter to any of them that you have saved the lives of two people on board; they are threatening violence to your person should they see you in the hold again."

"Really?" Hawke scoffed. _That seems a bit extreme. Wait…_ "What about Mother and Carver?"

"They have, at this point, made no move against your family. We aren't even sure they know you have any." Vergas answered.

"And you Aveline?"

"No open aggression, but I can take care of myself."

"So, what's the plan?"

"You remain here for the remainder of the journey." Hawke was about to protest, but Vergas raised his hand to silence her. "I will not ask one of my crew to vacate their bed and there are no spare rooms. Truly, I do not mind sleeping on the deck."

Hawke frowned but did not protest further. "If you insist Captain."

"In addition," Aveline started, "it seems that a group of refugees, many from the same group that have an issue with you, are saying that it is unfair for only a few to be allowed out of the hold."

"Oh," Hawke frowned deeper, "I hadn't thought of that."

"To keep everyone calm, Mistress Aveline agreed to cease visits. Your family will also be forbidden from leaving the hold to visit you."

"Aveline?" Hawke suddenly disliked this idea a lot. Being alone was not okay with her.

"It serves a dual purpose Hawke." Aveline stated calmly. "We appease the very reasonable concern of unfair treatment, and with any luck, by the end of the journey they will have forgotten that you were ever here. If myself or Leandra kept coming and going it would be a constant reminder that you were still aboard."

Hawke drooped, defeated. Aveline was right. There were dangers enough from the Templars in Kirkwall without a vengeful refugee running to rat her out fresh off the boat.

She sighed, resigned, as a thought entered her head. "Tell them I'm dead. You threw me overboard or something. I won't be there to contradict you, and the last thing I need is someone warning the Templars."

Aveline thought it over and Captain Vergas seemed to defer to her judgment in this matter. "We'd have to tell Leandra and Carver. They've been through enough without thinking that you were brutally cast overboard."

"Less of a shock when I rejoin them in Kirkwall, too."

"Are you sure about this?" Captain Vergas asked.

"It is a good idea." Aveline assented.

"Not to mention the unrest it'll save you when they realize I'm living in the lap of comparative luxury." Hawke added.

Vergas paled at the mere thought of more unrest. "Very well."

"So, this is goodbye for a while, Hawke." Aveline sat down on the bed next to her friend. "Don't tax yourself. Rest. You'll need your strength for Kirkwall."

"Thank you, Aveline. Look after them for me? Carver is a handful, but I think he respects you more than he ever did me."

"I'll keep them safe." She promised.

The two clasp forearms and Aveline left without another word. She closed the door behind her and Hawke felt more and more lonely with every retreating boot step.

"I'm sorry it turned out like this."

"I am an apostate. Prejudice is not unfamiliar to me." Hawke sighed.

"That does not make it right." He stated firmly. Hawke gave him a small smile in return and he continued, "I'm afraid I must take my leave; there are a few things I must discuss with the crew."

"Of course. I am sorry for the trouble my presence has brought you."

"It is not you that I regret bringing on board, Hawke." He saluted her casually on his way out the door.

Alone again, Hawke tried to remember what the dream had been. Not normal, that's for sure. Malcolm, her father, had always warned her and Bethany to pay attention to dreams. They were not limited to idle fancies of the subconscious, not for mages. With a stronger connection to the Fade, mages could sometimes experience visions—images and metaphors for important happenings. They were not common, but they were not unheard of.

She tried to pull at the strings of memory, but the more she tried, the faster they slipped away. Frustrated, Hawke shook her head and relaxed. Fighting for the memory would not be useful. She would remember it eventually, or she would not. Either way, there was nothing she could do about it now.

Sleep returned quickly.

**Author's Note:**

> _Also, if the italics didn't give it away, this is another solo work. A long one, but Thing 1 assures me that it is okay for me to post it. She will also write some of her own stuff, but for now it's just my solo stuff and the new collaborative Stony fic that's now being posted._


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